


Tattoo

by ninetiesnecklace



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Comedy, Episode: s02e03 Kame'e (The Hero), Humour, M/M, SEAL tattoos, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-07
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-30 17:19:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10167944
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninetiesnecklace/pseuds/ninetiesnecklace
Summary: “So, I was wondering,” Danny said and squinted his eyes at Steve. “If SEAL Team Nine has a special tattoo that only they recognise how come I’ve never seen one on you?”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [文身](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10638180) by [travispatrol](https://archiveofourown.org/users/travispatrol/pseuds/travispatrol)
  * Translation into Русский available: [Татуировка](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15441369) by [Navy_Attic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Navy_Attic/pseuds/Navy_Attic)



The Five-O headquarters were deserted save for Steve and Danny. The two men sat in Steve’s office, on the visitor side of his desk – the last folder of necessary yet tedious paperwork for the SEAL Team Nine case had been signed and filed a while ago and now Danny and Steve were enjoying their well-deserved beer. It was late afternoon but in their line of work, regular hours didn’t mean anything anyway – no harm in knocking back a few drinks after a successfully solved case.

“So, I was wondering,” Danny said and squinted his eyes at Steve. “If SEAL Team Nine has a special tattoo that only they recognise how come I’ve never seen one on you?”

Steve raised one eyebrow. “That’s classified information.”

“Steven.”

Steve shrugged and gestured with the bottle in his hand. “Hypothetically, if I had one and told you, wouldn’t that defy the whole purpose?”

“Well, no, because you trust me.”

“Still, I can neither confirm nor deny.”

Danny chuckled and shook his head. “Oh right, just give me all the variations of it. You’re driving me insane with that crap. Classified information, neither confirm nor deny – what is it with you army people?”

“Navy.”

“Navy, whatever, military. If it’s so classified why get a tattoo in the first place?”

“Helped us i.d. the victim, didn’t it?” Steve put the bottle to his lips.

“What, so you use it like dogtags?”

“No, I mean… not everyone gets a tattoo,” Steve shrugged. “It’s like with every part of your life. Some people decide to, you know, inscribe it in their skin. Some people get it after they have served. Some groups get it while active. It’s all an individual choice, Danny.”

With a deep breath Danny leaned forward, right elbow on his knee, and pointed in Steve’s direction across the glass of the bottle in his hand. “Which brings back the question about _your_ take on things and what’s going on your skin. You told me you got your arms done early so I’m guessing it’s not one of them.”

Steve scooted lower into his chair, his broad frame almost lining up with the sides of the backrest as he grinned at Danny. “That’s stunning detective work, really.”

“Possibility one,” Danny began, unimpressed by his partner’s sarcasm, “you don’t have a tattoo. But given that you’re enthusiastic about tattoos,” he gestured vaguely to the lines of ink that sneaked out from under Steve’s sleeves, “and you’re clearly proud of your SEAL background that seems unlikely. Also you’re being way too evasive for that to be true, my friend, I mean I know you by now. That face right there, it practically screams that you want to tell me about it.”

“Doubtful.”

“Which brings me to the second possibility. You do, in fact, have a secret SEAL tattoo. The pressing question then is not what it looks like but where it is.”

“What, you’re not interested in design?” Steve asked laconically.

“Oh, I am.” Danny nodded. “But the spot is more important right now. Once I know where to find it I can get a look at it.”

Steve lifted an eyebrow. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

“Ah! That, in fact, ties in to my further deductions.”

“This really bothers you, doesn’t it?”

Danny took a sip of his beer. “Considering how often you rid yourself of your shirt or run around in board shorts or, or, training shorts or whatever, I’d say there’s a very limited number of places you could hide it.”

“Listening.”

“Unless it’s some sort of black light tattoo,” Danny offered, looking around the room. “Do you have a black light?"

“No, not here,” Steve said and finished his beer. “Sorry.”

“Well, so either a black light tattoo or it is located on your scalp, or…” Danny tilted his head and looked Steve down provocatively, along the broad chest and to the spread legs. “Somewhere _very_ private. A sort of tramp stamp, on your ass or crotch or very high up your thighs… Hey, what was that look?” Danny jutted his chin forward.

“What look?”

“I’m right, am I?”

“You’re guessing.”

“Your eye twitched.”

“Well, if it did it’s because of your incessant talking.”

“You know, babe,” Danny said with a shrug, “You could easily stop me by just answering my questions.”

Steve licked his lips quickly and pressed them together. “You don’t need to know every detail about me.”

“I can’t believe you’re not trusting me with this.”

“This isn’t about trust, Danny, it’s about you overstepping boundaries.”

“Okay.” Danny lifted his hands in a defensive gesture, the rest of his beer sloshing against the glass. “Okay fine, keep your stupid tattoo secret. Want another beer?”

“Yes,” Steve said with a sigh of relief and looked at him. “Thank you.”

Danny stood up and walked the few steps to the fridge, grabbing two new bottles. He opened one and handed it to Steve before removing the cap from his bottle, clinking their drinks together. Then, he let himself fall back into the chair, spread out his legs and rubbed his chin with his free hand as he tilted his head in question. “Is it on your ass?”

“Seriously,” Steve said a little louder but a snort undercut the intensity, “what do you want me to do, strip naked?”

“Who said anything about stripping naked?” Danny’s voice hitched a little. “I just want to know is all. You can tell me. With your voice. Use words, Steven. Besides, it can’t be too secret, I’m sure plenty of people have seen you naked.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, just that tattoos get looked at. I’m sure you’re making the whole classified information thing up. You can talk about it. But you’re embarrassed.”

“I’m not embarrassed,” Steve sipped on his beer. “I’m comfortable in my skin and with my tattoos.”

“Evidently not enough to share with the class.”

Steve looked at him intensely, his brows furrowed, his eyes fixing Danny in his seat.  “Okay.”

A long first syllable, heightened inflection at the end. His eyes narrowed as he leaned forward, putting the half-full beer bottle on the wooden desk with a scraping sound and stood up. In a quick move Steve’s hands grabbed the belt on his cargo pants and began to undo it.

“Whow,” Danny said and pressed his back against the chair, pushing his hands out to cover the sight of Steve’s hands. “What are you doing? Why are you…”

The belt buckle gave a metallic clang and the straps fell onto Steve’s thighs. His hands rested on his waistband as he looked at Danny. “I’m sharing with the class. That’s what you wanted isn’t it?”

“If you’re taking the piss and make me look at your private parts and there’s no tattoo I will punch you in the face.”

“Well, do you wanna see it or not?”

It took Danny a second to answer. “Take off your pants.”

 

* * * * * * * * *

Lori rummaged in her purse but the familiar clinging of her key chain failed to ring out – she was so sure that she had thrown it in just after she had left the house this morning. _Great_. She had been out and about the remainder of the afternoon, after Steve and Danny had generously offered to take care of the paperwork this time. If she really lost them it’d be a long way to retrace.

Lori sighed quietly and grabbed her phone, dialling Steve’s number. Maybe her keys lay somewhere in the Five-0 headquarters.

“McGarrett,” her boss’ deep voice answered after only one ring.

“Hey, it’s Lori,” she said, momentarily confused by the other sounds her phone produced – something rustled in the background and a _“I can’t fucking believe it”_ that undeniably came from Danny.

“Is everything alright?” Lori asked, “Danny sounds pissed off.”

“What? Yeah, no, fine. Paperwork,” Steve answered, seemingly distracted. “What do you need?”

Lori’s hand still rummaged in her purse but the additional sound didn’t drown out Danny’s voice. _“Seriously? This is ridiculous, even for you.”_

The slapping sound of two hands and Steve hissed, “Hey, look with your eyes, man.”

“Uhm,” Lori said but before she could at least try and paint a picture to the frankly strange sounds coming from the other end of the line her fingers brushed against the chilly metal of her keys. “I thought I forgot my keys in the office but,” Danny’s voice in the background interrupted her train of thought - _“Why_ there _?”_

“But I just found them,” Lori finished her sentence. “Sorry to bother you.”

“Okay, good.” Steve answered. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

Lori pressed the button and pulled her keys out of her purse. That definitely didn’t sound like the paperwork she was accustomed to. Then again, she was new to the team and Five-0 seemed to handle many things differently.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
